


The Wedding of the  Foxes

by mapofyourhead



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-The Reichenbach Fall, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1231534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapofyourhead/pseuds/mapofyourhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's back, turns out he's not dead. But so is Moriarty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Hi  
> this is my first shot at a long, chaptered fic.  
> I hope you'll like it!

A sleek black Jaguar purred to a halt right outside a cafe.It was a rather small one,not many people frequent it,but it manages to scrape a living. The warm afternoon sun danced upon it's worn out sign board reading 'Macy's Cafe' in faded blue,aged by years of sun and rain. A door opened , the chauffeur emerged and walked along the side of the car, one gloved hand reaching for the door handle and the other placed on his abdomen with a not-so-humble bow.The door swung open,revealing a man in an incredibly dapper dark blue suit with a complimenting silver tie.He got out of the car in one swift move, back combing his dark hair with a hand. 

 

'Be back at four.You better not keep me waiting.' He turned to the chauffeur and gave him a sly smile.

 

'Of course Sir.' the chauffeur gave him a brief bow and shut the rear passenger door.He slid into the driver's seat and drove off in a hurry.

 

He turned towards the quaint little cafe,put on a pair of tinted aviator glasses and walked in with hands shoved in his pockets.It had a nice and cozy atmosphere,with a wooden floor and wallpapered walls. He took a seat near the shop's window,back facing the door,with clasped hands lying on the table top.He closed his eyes as he waited,absorbing the afternoon sun's subtle warmth.Something he hadn't felt in ages.

 

Not long after,the entrance door swung open gracefully and in stepped a woman in a little black dress and ballet flats.He opened his eyes but did not turn towards her.Her blue-green eyes swept across the cafe, pupils dilating at the sight of the man she was to meet.She walked towards him in careful strides,stopping right in front of the table. She swept her now long hair onto her shoulder and fingered her purse nervously.

 

'Go on take a seat , I won't bite,' He smirked. She pulled the chair opposite him and slid into the wooden wicker chair. '..much.' He straightened his back and ran a hand through his hair. 

 

'Hello again, Jim.' She said. She settled down in her seat and crossed her slender legs.  
'Hello, Adler,' He looked her in the eyes.'How've you been? Surviving?'  
'Pretty well, it's been a hectic year.You know,with all the fake IDs and near death experiences.' she sighed.  
'-And playing the damsel in distress, saved by your darling prince that will never love you back.' He snickered and picked at his nails.

 

She paused and shot him a glare, 'I know.'

 

Moriarty picked up a toothpick from it's holder and started playing with it. She looked down at his hands and watched the little toothpick dance between his fingers.  
'....And not forgetting...' He flicked the toothpick off the table,whistling as it fell. She stared down at the feeble toothpick on the floor.'...The fall.' He stuck his tongue in his cheek. She looked back at him and pretended to be unfazed by the gesture.

 

'Now,' He raised his hand to flag a waitress,'Time to settle some business.' A short girl in all black scooted over to their table with a notepad in hand. 'A double espresso,for me.' he glanced briefly at her.' Earl Grey, thanks.' she said. The girl scribbled on her notepad,gave a brief but timid smile and fled off to the kitchen.

 

Irene turned her attention back to him.' One thing that bothers me is that you're not afraid of revealing your identity. Why the sudden show? and why this of all places?Why meet in person? Not really your style.' She leaned in and rested her head on her palm,giving him an inquisitive look.'Oh, no.This is where i carry out most of my business,' he waved around the nearly empty cafe.'Let's just say they owe me a favour.' He smiled and folded his arms across his chest.' Or rather, I owe them a lack of mercy.'He said.'In return they let me settle my business without the worry of the public.' He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a folder. He placed it gingerly on the table and pushed it towards her with an out-stretched finger.'They're one of my rats, they do as i say.' He said as he pinched off his glasses and folded them into his dress jacket.

 

She looked at the folder,a familiar face was paperclipped on the top left hand corner. 'Oh? Is she one of yours too?' 

 

'Oh, no. She's a contractor,a sneaky one too.Contractors normally don't make ties with anyone.They only side with you until they're job's done. They get what they want in return, break ties and are up on the market again.' He leaned forward. 'But this one's decided to form some unique bonds with someone.And soon,a special someone you would love to meet.' He flipped open the folder. A picture of yet another familiar face layed in a pile of documents. Irene raised an eyebrow and gave him a smile,'John Watson? Isn't he irrelevant now that the Virgin's long gone?'

 

The girl came back with their drinks.Irene nodded at her as she retrieved her beverage.She stirred in a couple of sugar cubes and turned back to Moriarty.'Au contraire.' He shook his head and gave her a playful smile.'Like I said. She's soon going to rendezvous with someone you would be dying to meet.' '-And who might that be?' She took a careful sip of her tea,maintaining eye contact.'Oh you know,dear old Sherly.' He shrugged.'Holmes is coming home,Adler. It's about time he made his debut.' She choked on her tea but quickly recovered. She placed the teacup back in it's saucer and she wiped her mouth with a napkin, giving him a wary look.He looked her dead in the eyes.

 

'..And so do I.'


	2. Second Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've realised now that I'm a bit too busy to update regularly with quality work. Plus I suck at keeping in character so I tend to redo everything a lot and it would end up not sounding as good as I want it to be.

I rolled over onto my side to face John.I stole most of the duvet with the exception of a little fold tucked at his feet. He started to shift in his sleep with 'brows furrowed, the poor man must be cold. I uncurled my cocoon of warmth and wrapped half of it around his body,kissing his forehead as he snuggled into it.

I remember the first time we met. The first thing that came to mind in all honesty is,'Boy, he's rather short.' A bit too much of a poker face too, but that could change. He looked alright in general, but what I love most are his beautiful blue-gray eyes. It's like the colour of a Russian Blue's velvety coat -but not quite. 'Like the deep blues of the early morning sky -but barely even close.Sometimes he catches me staring deep into them, but it an't be helped! I know it sounds incredibly cliche when i say that you can get lost in them but it's pretty true. Those eyes have seen things, they tell stories. They can get pretty expressive too if one notices such minor quirks. They tell stories. Of previous unrequited love and the battle-worn scars of Afghanistan. Stories of dark alleys and great escapades. And stories of a dear friend.

He went through a lot before I came into his life. Apparently, his best friend and flatmate kicked the bucket. This friend just so happened to be the one and only Sherlock Holmes. From what I know is that he was pressured by the media's big, sweaty palms and finally lost it. It was all over the news, tabloids of course got really involved,theorists came up and sprouted a few false rumours hear and there. He created Moriarty, they said, the consulting detective was a fraud. Dear John Watson thought otherwise. I truly do not know what to believe. John could be right, he was framed, but he could just simply be in denial. There was evidence to prove Jim Moriarty was in fact an actor.If I recall, his name was Richard Brook or something of the sort.Sherlock definitely had the resources and power to do such a thing. However, the media never caught the deciding factor; only lies have details. It's impossible to cook up an entire persona and trick a nation as simply as that. If he was in fact a storyteller to young children on television, wouldn't people recognise him from the start? Were people really that gullible? But that's just my opinion, nobody will ever know the truth.

Now back to how we met. It was a few months after the incident. It all began when i got a job as a nurse at the same clinic as John. He came to work in the morning often with red eyes and dark eye circles. I would always try to get him to talk about whatever was troubling him but would always shrug it off an lock himself in his office. That is, until one day he took me out to dinner.It wasn't much, just a little Italian restaurant down the road. We got to know each other a little better from that day and one day he finally trusted me enough to confide in me.

He missed Sherlock so much, i bet he could write a whole book on his grief. He'd have regular visits to his therapist too, which mostly ended in sniffling and a snot filled handkerchief.He wouldn't even make it past a step into their old apartment, he would choke up at the sight of the clean kitchen counter tops,not a single experiment to be seen. The thing that affected him the most was the hat. The hat. The silly deer stalker that he absolutely loved; he always denied it but it was as plain as day. I couldn't bare to see him suffer in silence like that, who knows what might have gone through his mind at that point of time, so I forced him to stay over at my place. Even though we only went out for a couple of months.It made it much easier for him to rehabilitate.

I shook my head an smiled,enough of these sad memories. We had a little office romance too,I would occasionally sneak into his office and steal a little kiss or two in between patients. Two years later,he's finally gotten over Sherlock. He's moving on wih his life. He really should call Mrs Hudson at the very least, she must be ever so worried. After all they've been through together,but he just can't bring himself to pick up the phone.

Light started peeping through the curtains, a streak of warm, orange light caressed John's face. I looked over to the alarm clock. '7:02'. It should have sounded two minutes ago. I sighed and heaved myself up from the bed, he was still sound asleep.I hopped up onto my feet,wobbling from the sudden imbalance and ruffled my bedhead hair.I hobbled over to the closet to pick an outfit for the day. I grabbed a little blue dress and walked sleepily towards the bathroom. I placed it in a pile next to the sink and looked up into the mirror. My hair was in a mess ,my eyes were still groggy from sleep and I still had yesterday's make up on. I looked like a hung over clown. I turned the faucet on and proceeded to scrub it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after about two months or so of not updating bc im super busy nowadays, i would kinda rarely update until further notice.


End file.
